


Not-Love

by KivaEmber



Series: Bonds Universe [5]
Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bonds-verse, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 11:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love was hypocritical and violent and chaotic. Yamato wanted no part of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not-Love

It was raining quite heavily.

Yamato watched the thick layer of water rush down the surface of glass, seated very close to the window. He liked reading next to it, especially when it rained, although he found himself rather distracted tonight. The book lay open on his lap, and his elbow rested on the windowsill, his mouth pressing against an upturned palm as he stared out onto the street below. It was only the early afternoon as well, but it may as well have been evening with the level of visibility out there.

His attention was drawn away from the window when he heard the apartment door open loudly. He dropped his hand and looked back at the book on his lap, his eyes fixated on a single word – “Anna” – as he heard the noise of shoes dropping against the floor, and loud, exaggerated ‘brrrs’. The door closed not long afterwards, and Hibiki appeared in the living room, his curly hair dripping wet and his face and hands bloodless.

“Cold, cold, cold,” Hibiki whispered, his teeth chattering as he made a beeline for the blanket on the back of the sofa. He grabbed it, wrapping himself up in a cocoon with it. He stood there for a long moment, shivering from cold, and Yamato just watched him from the corner of his eye.

Yamato turned a page in his book.

“I’m guessing it’s cold then?”

“Fuck off.”

Yamato smirked privately to himself, fingers toying with the corner of his page. He heard Hibiki shuffle across the carpet, and grunted when a heavy weight suddenly pressed down against his side, almost ousting him out of his seat.

Something wet pressed against his cheek, and with a grimace, Yamato realised it was Hibiki’s hair.

“Do you mind?”

“No,” Hibiki wriggled closer, managing to wedge himself between Yamato and the arm of the chair (they were both quite scrawny, although the blanket cocoon was taking up a large amount of room) snugly enough. His eyes flickered over the book in Yamato’s hands, and frowned.

“The hell are you reading? Hieroglyphics?”

“…I do hope that was a poor joke and not a serious guess,” Yamato muttered, “No, this is Russian. It’s a novel by a man named Tolstoy.”

Hibiki hummed thoughtfully, and Yamato waited patiently.

He was rewarded for his efforts. “That… guy who wrote the book War and Peace? Isn’t that quite popular in the West?”

“I wouldn’t say popular. Well known, perhaps…”

“Mm. So, you’re reading…” Hibiki trailed off pointedly.

“Anna Karenina,” Yamato closed the book, his thumb keeping his place, and showed the cover to Hibiki. It was very plain; just a dark blue cover with the words ‘Anna Karenina’ on the front. It was a hardback copy, from Russia, and quite old. In any case the binding was becoming a bit loose.  “This book is well known for a specific quote; ‘Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way’.”

Hibiki shifted against Yamato, and he could practically hear the gears turning in Hibiki’s skull. He reached out, grasping the book and gently forcing it open onto the page Yamato was on. It seemed he was somewhat interested in it, even if he couldn’t read the Russian words.

“You’ve interested me. What’s it about?”

“Hmm…” Yamato skimmed the page he was in, trying to jog his memory. He had read this book once before, but that was in childhood, and he was admittedly dodgy on the details. “It’s about many things, but one of the main focuses is on a Russian aristocrat and socialite named Anna Karenina – specifically about her love affair with Count Vronsky. She’s a married woman, but is hesitant to leave her husband for Vronsky, due to a myriad of reasons. This is paralleled right in the beginning by her brother cheating on his own wife. Karenina is judged harsher than Oblonsky, though.”

“Sooo… you’re reading a classical, Russian soap opera?” Hibiki asked, his voice lilting teasingly. “I didn’t know you were the type, Yamato…”

“It’s an interesting perspective on Russian society in the eighteen hundreds,” Yamato said snippily. “Also there is some political rhetoric in the form of Levin-”

“Bzzzzzt. Skip the political rhetoric please,” Hibiki groaned, grinding his forehead into Yamato’s shoulder. “I can foresee myself falling into a stupor already. Go back to the soap opera.”

Yamato jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow, but the cocoon of blankets made it ineffectual. After a bit of a pause, Yamato spoke up again.

“The ‘soap opera’, as you call it, is not melodramatic like it is on the television,” he said, idly flipping through the pages. “It’s an interesting insight in how people act when love and sex are involved, which is very chaotically and hypocritical.”  

“Well, relationships are never smooth,” Hibiki said, his tone drowsy. There was a flush of colour to his cheeks now, and although his hair was still damp, he was no longer shivering with cold. “If you get close enough to someone that you let them see all your vulnerable bits, of course things are gonna chafe. Ever hear of the hedgehog’s dilemma?”

“Yes. The closer you get to someone, the more you can hurt them,” Yamato finally closed the book, staring down at the cover. “But I meant in that, love is not something that is easily obtained or discernible. Infatuation or lust can be mistaken for love, or it can be warped into a possessive jealousy or obsession. Very rarely is there a pure form of it. I doubt it even exists.”

“Ohhh, someone’s a pessimist,” Hibiki shook with laughter. “I think most people know if they love someone, it’s just takes a lot of experience and a firm head on your shoulders.”

“Is that so…”

Yamato didn’t think about this subject often. It was a meaningless one. Love was not something would never be applied to him – or so he thought – and even if it did, it would be an irritating distraction. Far too dangerous to uphold, and far too dangerous to engage. It was to be avoided at all costs.

“Yeah. I mean, I love you, and you love me, right?”

Hibiki made it sound easy. Very matter of fact. Yamato gripped the book so tight he could feel pain spark in his fingers joints, but made no other outward sign of his sudden distress. Hibiki wasn’t even looking at him. He could hear his nails picking at the arm of the chair, the blankets rustling from the movement.

Yamato’s heart felt like it was going to pop, so he let out a slow, quiet breath and slackened his grip on the book. “Confident, are we?”

“Don’t be coy~” Hibiki sang. “I know it to be true. You’re a big ol’ softie deep down – regarding me. You’re still a stone cold bastard to everyone else.”

“Mn.”

The word ‘love’ rattled in his skull. Yamato immediately shut it out and drew his attentions onto something else. Cowardly, to run away from something like that, but Yamato didn’t want to consider the possibility. His and Hibiki’s relationship was built on comradeship and respect – to toss something chaotic like love into that mix made him want to launch himself out of the chair and move to the other side of the globe.

“In any case,” Yamato said, “My arm is beginning to go numb with you leaning on it. Are you going to move any time soon?”

“Nah,” Hibiki said dismissively. “I’m comfy here.”  

Yamato set the book aside on the windowsill – and without warning shoved Hibiki off the chair. He tumbled with a loud yelp, hitting the floor with a satisfying ‘ _thud’_. Yamato rested his feet on the messy heap of Hibiki on the floor.

Hibiki groaned in misery, not moving from his new position of foot stool. “I take it back. I don’t love you. I hate you. Evil bastard…”

“That’s what you get for exposing your vulnerabilities to me,” Yamato chided, “I’m a cruel man.”

To emphasise his point, he dug his heel into what he suspected was Hibiki’s lower back. He was graced with a whine like moan of pain. Yamato smiled. He wasn’t buying the wounded animal ploy for a second. At any moment Hibiki was going to yank at his legs, or something equally unpleasant, to return tit-for-tat.

That was the kind of relationship he liked – an equal partnership, not one filled with ridiculous passion and love. That would be sickening.

His prediction was proven true, as immediately after that thought passed his mind, Hibiki latched onto his leg, and with amazing strength, pulled hard enough for Yamato to slide out of his seat, and ‘accidentally’ kick Hibiki full on in the face. 


End file.
